The Basilisk Quandary
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: "Why should the decades decide what is real and what isn't? You know better than anyone that magic has the answers to some of life's most marvelous questions." Riddle laughed, gazing familiarly at the small black book lying by Ginny's feet.


**Word count** : 2515

 **Written for** :

Cards Against Humanity Competition - What's making things awkward in the sauna? _Crowing roosters that kill giant snakes_.

Hogwarts June Funfair Hedge Maze - Right: (word) find

Hogwarts June Funfair Treasure Hunt - (emotion) scared

* * *

 **The Basilisk Quandary**

* * *

A slow drip of underground water repeatedly splashed onto the sodden stone floor. Harry could hear the constant _drip drip drip_ sound, a reminder that something else was in motion in the desolate chamber.

The atmosphere was identical to every underground place he had ever been - not that he had been to many. The air itself was humid and cold, so that it condensed onto his skin and glasses. Harry wiped his lenses on his shirt again, managing only to smear the water around more. If only Hermione was there to charm them clean...

But he was alone, left in the enormous underground chamber to fend for himself. Suddenly the plan struck Harry as a terrible idea - what if he failed, and no one was there to save the day, or save the others?

 _drip drip drip-_

He had to push on. No one else knew the truth about the chamber, and there was no time for internal monologues. Ginny was in danger somewhere.

In front of him, Harry saw nothing of interest besides the eerie statue looming over the rest of the chamber. He knew he should investigate, look all around it for clues, perhaps, but something about it warned him off. A sound... a feeling... like Parseltongue being whispered into his head from afar - but there were no words. Just the sound of running water in the pipes up above, the underground air whooshing around corners, the _drip drip drip_ still behind him. For such an empty room, the sounds were overwhelming.

Then Harry saw it, and abandoned his thoughts of delay: a figure splayed out by the statue's feet, looking very pale and very dead. A fan of red hair thinly spread across the floor by her head. Ginny.

He ran to her, sliding on the stones and wetting the toes of his shoes in standing water. There was nothing he could do - nothing - but Harry looked around in vain for clues. The pillars could not be moved - the statue was dead and fake - the ghostlike boy simply stood a few paces away, staring at him...

Harry jumped, noticing the figure for the first time. He hadn't spoken, but there was a presence to him unlike anyone he'd had seen before.

"You're Tom Riddle," said Harry unsteadily, still gazing around for some kind of weapon or sign that the basilisk was near. "What - why is she _here_? What's going on?"

"That's a good question," Riddle replied. He looked amused, but didn't speak again.

"Why are _you_ here?" blurted Harry. "You're not real - you've been dead fifty years..."

"Why should the decades decide what is real and what isn't? You know better than anyone that magic has the answers to some of life's most _marvelous_ questions." Riddle laughed, gazing familiarly at the small black book lying by Ginny's feet.

"The diary..."

"The diary is the key. It's the reason for my success. You see, little did Ginny know that every stroke she made on its pages brought me closer to today... when I stand among you as an equal, not just a memory..."

"A memory? But-"

Harry knew he getting nowhere with Riddle. It was impossible for him to exist, after all - he was a leftover from another era altogether - so it didn't matter what he said or did. He couldn't get in the way of Harry's rescue mission. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket, planning to cast a _lumos_ into the chamber, but as soon as he laid it down beside Ginny's body, it was gone.

Riddle stood beside him, twirling the wand in his fingertips. He held it tightly in his grasp, as if it were about to slip away.

"I haven't finished yet."

"I think you have."

"Aren't you curious? Wondering who I am, who I was, who I will come to be?" Riddle asked. He tilted his head, smirking at Harry. It was vaguely resemblant of Malfoy when he thought he had a clever thing to say. "The voice is inside your head, waiting. I know it's there... you wrote in the diary... you want to know the truth..."

"All I care about is Ginny, and getting out of here. Now give me back my wand, and we can get out together." Harry stared at Riddle, waiting for a concession on his part. Nothing.

"Oh, the wand? You won't be needing that."

"Fine, I'll get it myse-" Harry said, reaching for Riddle's hand. But his fingers slipped through, and his wand was no longer solid, as if it had faded into part of Riddle that only he could touch. "Give it back!"

"Not until you listen."

"Fine," Harry repeated. "I hope you enjoy blabbing on while a girl _dies_ -" -he pointed at Ginny- "-and a giant serpent roams the chamber. We're in the _Chamber_ of _Secrets_!"

"Exactly," said Riddle. "The chamber that Ginny Weasley opened."

Harry gaped at Riddle. Ginny had been _taken_. She wasn't a conspirator - she was a victim. "You don't understand..."

"I understand perfectly well. I understand that I instructed Ginny to open this chamber, and to write in blood on the wall, and to kill every rooster on the school grounds. I understand that she has given up all of herself for this, for me..." An evil glint appeared in Riddle's eyes. "And that now I wait for _you_ , my real target."

"Wha... what am I to you?"

"Only the single biggest question I have left to answer," said Riddle smoothly. "And I intend to get a decent answer, at least, before you die."

"An answer to _what_?"

"How did you survive the night that Lord Voldemort killed your entire family?"

Another pause filled the room. Harry stared at Riddle, unable to comprehend what had just been asked. "How did I _survive_?"

"You were a baby," said Riddle, offhand. "You had no magical power or skills. How, then, did you defeat the greatest wizard who ever lived?"

"Dumbledore," Harry muttered.

"What?" Riddle's confident, aggressive face broke up into confusion for the first time. "What about him?"

" _He's_ the greatest wizard who ever lived."

Riddle quickly regained his composure. "And yet he leaves his little hero alone in the Chamber of Secrets, with no help or guidance. Such a fine wizard... a coward, more like." Riddle rubbed his hands together. "But why am I complaining? All the better than you'll die quickly at my hand!"

Harry thought desperately of some way to stop him. He had no wand - it was still closed in Riddle's palm - and no other form of defense. Talking was the only way to slow down and find some means of escape, saving Ginny.

"I'll tell you why I lived that day," Harry said. "I don't care. It was because of my mother. She loved me, and died to save me. Maybe I didn't have special powers - maybe I don't deserve to be alive at all. But at least I'm more natural and deserving than you. You're not even alive in this world. You don't _belong_."

"Nice words coming from you," sneered Riddle, stomping his foot. "A little boy who should have died... So that's how you lived. I should have guessed it was some weak and filthy thing like mudblood sacrifice. Well, that doesn't change things the way I see them. I _know_ I can kill you, and I _will_."

"I've had enough," Harry murmured to himself, trying to ignore the madman in front of him. Ginny was dying. He was going to die. Why let Riddle distract him from the basilisk and the other secrets of the chamber?

"Oh, only I say when you've had enough. But I won't make you wait any longer." Riddle turned to the enormous statue, addressing it like something alive. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly, grandly.

"Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four. Your servant and heir Lord Voldemort greets you..."

Riddle turned back to Harry, surely craving some sort of reaction. Inside, Harry was stunned, panicked, stuck on dozens of conflicting emotions, all of which spelled DANGER in capital letters. Voldemort. _Voldemort_.

He said nothing, not taking his gaze off the giant statue that he now knew was the founder Salazar Slytherin. He knew what would happen. Riddle would call the basilisk, and he would die - die at the hands of his mortal enemy, who stood now as if he had never perished when Harry was a baby.

"Stop!" he tried to call. "Don't listen to him, don't, _please_!"

But his words did nothing, and Harry heard the gravelly sound of stone moving away from a door or opening. Something had been released into the chamber.

He knew at once that it was the basilisk, knew from the odor of rotting flesh that emanated throughout the chamber even though the snake wasn't in sight, and knew from the way Riddle grinned when the sound was first heard. A piercing light appeared around the corner of the nearest pillar, forcing Harry to shield his eyes. He had no time to run. It would be upon him in seconds.

"And, now, Potter, you will die," whispered Riddle. A pause, and then:

"KILL HIM!" he screamed.

The chase began.

Harry squeezed himself into corners, in between pillars, trying to hide from the cruel beam of light coming from the basilisks's eyes. He closed his eyes tightly to protect against instant death by snake gaze - but blind fumbling for safety wouldn't work. Ginny was lying there in the open while he, Harry, dodged a massive snake...

The basilisk, urged on by Riddle, had slithered back to the main area, reaching nearer and nearer to where Ginny still lay. Harry felt the vibrations made by its moving body, and dared to peek at it. Seeing its head facing away from him, towards Ginny's body, Harry panicked.

"Over HERE!" he shouted, waving his arms. There was a massive screeching noise as the basilisk turned on itself and raced back to where he hid, shaking. There was no way to hide. He had failed.

Nearly giving up, Harry stopped moving, crouching behind the pillar without daring to breathe. He heard Riddle's voice echoing around the chamber:

"Go get him! Get the boy - finish him off!"

Harry didn't know what it was like to die, and although he was scared of the pain, he hated more the idea that Ginny would be next. Ron's only sister - the innocent first year with an insatiable crush - the little girl with the red braids. (And, really, they were practically the same age.)

He imagined the basilisk creeping towards him, mouth agape, fangs glistening with deadly poison...

The pain never came.

He saw them as if in a dream, a happy one. They appeared in the chamber like magic - and it _was_ magic, Harry corrected himself - a dozen wizards wearing blindfolds but shooting spells all over. One conjured a rooster, and held the animal aloft in the air. Harry heard the basilisk make a snarling sound, followed by a cry of agony.

He felt assaulted by the flow of pure magic surrounding him, and remained between the pillars for minutes to come, even after the spells tapered off and the voices grew louder. Harry realized he had closed his eyes, so he opened them again, tentatively.

A crowd of wizards stood in a circle at the base of the statue, leaning over the figure on the ground. It stirred, and there was a burst of activity. _Ginny_. She and a few of the people disappeared before Harry could react.

He scrambled into the main room, clutching his arm. There was a long scratch that had likely come about while he was running from the basilisk, but Harry wasn't worried about some little cut; he wanted to know about Riddle, and the basilisk.

"Hello," he called out, still unsure as to whether the people were friendly. After Riddle's betrayal, Harry felt strangely shaken and not in the mood to trust.

" _Harry_ ," exclaimed Dumbledore. It was _him_ \- it was Dumbledore standing by the statue, the leader of the little group. They all turned to face him as he raced toward them in a panic.

"What's going on? Is _it_ dead? Is Riddle dead? Is- is Ginny-"

"Harry," repeated Dumbledore, folding him into an unexpected embrace. "You're safe. The basilisk has been destroyed. Riddle, it seems, is no more."

There was a murmur of dissent from the men behind Dumbledore. "The boy doesn't need to know about that," one muttered.

Dumbledore frowned. "Harry deserves to know everything he would like to know. He willingly visited this chamber to save a younger student, risking his life in the process."

"Send him to the hospital wing and give him an _obliviate_. We can't have this, Dumbledore - it'll get out, and people will think-"

"I-" interrupted Dumbledore- "do not care what people will think. I am taking him up to the school, but I will not remove his memories. And neither will you, unless the Board of Governors agrees, which I very highly doubt."

There was more muttering, but the major voices ceased their protests. Harry ignored most of this, still reliving the events of the past few minutes. He was breathing heavily, despite being still and unpersued. "And Ginny?"

"Ginny will be fine," Dumbledore promised, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Life began to creep back into her as soon as the basilisk and Riddle's life force, the diary, were destroyed. A few days in the Hospital Wing will be all she needs."

"Thank you," breathed Harry. He allowed himself to be transported back to the castle floors - by what method he couldn't tell - and into the aforementioned wing. After being laid in a bed beside Ginny, and across from the paralyzed figures, Dumbledore approached him again.

"Your wand, Harry," he said, placing the wand in his hand and closing his fingers over it. "You are lucky this suffered no significant destruction. I presume Riddle carried it?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore seemed to sense the fear in Harry's eyes, and spoke quietly. "You have suffered greatly tonight. I would like to lessen your fears. Ginny is well; your friend Ron and your professor have been rescued from the rubble."

Harry wanted to interrupt, saying that his friends, while important, weren't his focus.

"I know," said Dumbledore quickly. "You worry about Riddle. A wise thought. But allow me to assure you: the piece of Voldemort that survive through that diary is no more. It cannot hurt and haunt you."

"But... how?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, if I told you, it would've help in the slightest. Technical knowledge and nothing more. The point is, Riddle cannot harm anyone ever again. Is that enough reassurance for one night?"

"Yes, professor- sir-" Harry said. He wasn't completely satisfied, but he sensed that whatever else he could say wouldn't change the headmaster's mind.

"Poppy has prepared a potion for dreamless sleep, which I presume you will require this evening?"

Harry accepted the goblet, took a deep drink, and felt his mind finally drift away from the nightmare realm of the chamber of secrets. It was over.


End file.
